“When you aerate it, the wine directly interacts with thenitrogen and oxygen molecules, causing the rapid evaporation of the bitter-tasting and bad-smelling elements that accumulate in a bottle while it’s stored. It also helps separate the sediment, which will settle to the bottom of your decanter, so you’re left with a more flavorful wine and aromatic bouquet.”
“You sound like a brochure I’d read if I ever went wine tasting,” Maisie said.
“Wine is worth appreciation, Maisie.”
Maisie turned serious in that moment and said, “Okay. Tell me more.”
“Really? We don’t–”
“Yeah. You care about this stuff. Tell me more.”
Maisie leaned back against the sofa and waited.
“You want me to talk you through the whole thing?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” India replied. “Do you have a pitcher or something?”
“I think I have one I use for tea sometimes.”
“That’ll work for tonight, at least,” India said, standing up. “Do you have a candle and a lighter? I can show you how to pour, too.”
“There’s a candle involved in wine pouring?”
“Sometimes,” India said. “So, candle?”
Maisie smiled, nodding, and stood up to join her.
“I will find you a candle.”
Minutes later, they stood in the kitchen as India poured some of the wine into the makeshift decanter and explained more about the aeration process. Maisie lit the candle for her, and India poured the rest of the bottle into the pitcher. She pointed out how the candle lit up the dark-green bottle, indicating where the bulk of the sediment had rested, allowing her to stop pouring before it dropped into the pitcher.
“Some people prefer to pour that in as well because you miss a little of the wine when you leave it in the bottle, but I’d rather just leave it in there. Do you know how to taste wine first? The process?”
“Assume I know nothing,” Maisie replied.
“Okay. Well, let’s get our glasses, then,” India said and walked back to the table where they’d left their glasses. She brought them back, handed one to Maisie, and added, “We’ll keep it basic tonight.”
“Yes, beginner-level, please,” Maisie requested.
“First, look.”
“At you? No problem,” Maisie teased her. “You’re very pretty.”
India laughed and said, “At the wine, babe.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Color, opacity, and viscosity.”
“I know what one and a half of those words mean.”
India laughed again and walked Maisie through looking at her wine before smelling it, checking for the bouquet, and finally, taking a small sip and letting the flavors of it roll over her tongue. She listed some things to look for, like fruit, herb, or earthy flavors.
“Do I spit it out?” Maisie asked with the wine still in her mouth.
India laughed at that, and they both had to spit their wine in the sink, or they would’ve ended up spitting it at each other accidentally. India hadn’t ever had this much fun with wine. She had always loved it – the craft of making it, the learning about it, the trying and tasting, and even the buying and the auction process – but she had never truly had fun with wine like this before. She’d never thought shecouldhave this much fun with wine before.
